


Rosemary

by berrybliss



Series: Fairy Tale Retellings [4]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fairy Tale Retellings - The Nutcracker, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Warnings inside, a retelling that does not have a nutcracker oh wow, also inspired by Tchaikovsky's Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, insp drawn from "The Nutcracker and the Four Realms", some Alice in Wonderland mixed in there too, some weird stuff happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 17:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13369635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berrybliss/pseuds/berrybliss
Summary: Only he can return back the stolen heart, his prince of sugar plums.But does Tetsuya want it back?[Warnings Inside]





	Rosemary

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay guys, this one’s really screwed up. I know it’s probably not like that at first, but it is. Kinda violent too. The thought behind it, I mean.  
> Inspired by Nutcracker and the Four Realms trailer. That soundtrack is to die for! *q*  
> Important: This is a The Nutcracker retelling without a nutcracker. So, you know, heads up, because you won't find any "nutcracker" here. (Insane, I know).  
> WARNINGS: There are no overly graphic depictions of violence, but the thought behind the death that occurs is disturbing. Watch out for that. I'm going to say it now but if you have had really bad experiences with a family member dying I suggest you skip the part after Yukiko's narrative and move on to the next scene.  
> :"D  
> Enjoy.

When he steps out of the trees, barefoot, the town of Seirin greets him.

The grass tickles his feet, and he feels as if it is the first time he has felt this in a while. There is the scent of fresh bread being baked and the sound of cockerels waking up the townsfolk. The sun’s rays slip through the trees, chasing his shadow and the curves of his white robes.

A lone figure sits on a rocking chair, alert upon facing his presence. The book that sits on the middle aged man’s lap drops to the ground. Hurriedly, he picks it up and dusts it off.

He hadn’t expected anyone to see him at the break of dawn, though he should have known that a man such as this would be an early riser.

He stops in his spot and does not stir an inch, his robes making a billowing motion, bearing a resemblance to the leaves of a willow tree.

* * *

 

_Once upon a time, there was a boy who was too curious for his own good._

_He had a guide to help him discover new things, but perhaps the temptation grew too great, and ultimately, the boy found himself lost in wonders as he fell into the guide’s rabbit hole of dreams - because surely, the guide was just like the white rabbit in that fairy tale – the one about the girl with her looking glass._

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

_“Where are you going?”_

_“Home.” The boy uttered, confused, “I need to go home.”_

_And coming out, the boy was never quite the same._

* * *

The town of Seirin was coated in snow, which decorated the eaves of cottages and bigger estates and painted the pathways with white.    

Remnants of foot trails could be seen, some with sizes smaller than others. There were, however, no foot trails that could be seen in the path leading to the woods that lay to the north side of the town, sprawling with flora in the spring, prickly and barren in the winter. Stories of old and new could be woven into this, of mothers and fathers telling their children to hush, tucking them into their beds and whispering to them - _it’s dangerous, love, everyone knows it’s wrong to wander into the woods, your grandmother and grandfather told me this too –_

_For there are things much more dangerous than wolves, and they do not choose their prey._

Every trace of any existing foot trails would be cleared with the passage of time. They would mysteriously disappear, as quickly as they had come.

One seemingly harmless carriage trail would lead to the house of the Kurokos, who lived near the woods. A person could tell from seeing its exterior that it was a house that one simply had to make do with. The only redeeming part about it was the garden, which was at least not neglected. It seemed abandoned from the festive spirit of the rest of the town, which celebrated the holiday season.

The man who came knocking at the house’s doorstep was affluent, having inherited a large fortune from both his father and mother. Kuroko Yukiko opened the door, greeting him with a smile.

“Kentaro-san,” She seemed to have woken up from a daze, because she seemed to struggle with the words. She licked her lips and smiled, yet it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Always a pleasure. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to come visit and wish you well.” It was almost the turn of the year. His voice takes on a mellower tone, as he has the servant hold out the gift. “For you and your family.”

Yukiko tried to stop her fingers from trembling as she took it. There was a pouch of silver coins too, a generous amount.

“Tetsuya-kun likes sugar plums, so I got some for him too.”

Yukiko’s head hung down. “How kind of you to remember.” Her voice trembled too, but it was something that resembled anger. Anger at what, Seto could hardly tell.

“How is your husband?”

“He is bedridden, but with the money, we might be able to get a good doctor to check up on him and prescribe the right medications… his fever won’t go away, and no medicine can heal what has fallen upon...” She stopped herself, “It is frightening. Everything’s gone horribly wrong.”  

“It truly was unfortunate, what happened. You have my sympathy.” He bowed, a smile worming its way to his lips. Yukiko wasn’t sure which he was referring to, until he said, “I was planning on proposing to Tetsuya eventually.”

“And would that not have been perfect?” Yukiko sighed wistfully. She laughed, then, her grey-blue eyes clouded with grief. “Happy holidays, Kentaro-san. I do not see it fit to bother you with my problems.”

Seto looked at his pocket watch. “I must be on my leave, anyway. There is a prior engagement I must go to, you see.”

“I shouldn’t be keeping you. T-Thank you, again.” She murmured, the chills getting to her. She turned her back on him. The slouch on her figure was made more apparent, and Seto was unlikely to forget her sunken eyes, and the hollows of her defined cheekbones.

 He chuckled deeply, taking a step into the carriage.

“How truly unfortunate indeed.”

And the Kuroko residence was forgotten once more, left behind to shoulder its burdens.

The sugar plums lay abandoned in the trash - it too, forgotten, and ultimately laid to waste.

* * *

 

Tetsuya’s ear pressed against the door frame after he heard a voice that stirred him from his state of mind.

  _“-obviously came to laugh at us!”_

He stayed unmoving from his position, even after what met him was deafening silence. He staggered back when his mother opened the door minutes later. He’d lost track of the time. It was the time of the day his mother would hold the keys and open the door – he should have heard the keys, but he hadn’t.

They never exchanged any words after what happened, mother and son.

Yukiko would simply enter and give Tetsuya his meal, and that was being generous in itself, Tetsuya knew. His eyes were always listless whenever Yukiko entered, as if no one had at all, as if he were seeing ghosts that were products of his own imagination. And maybe that wasn’t far off the mark, Yukiko always thought. 

“Kentaro-san came to see you.”

Tetsuya’s stomach flipped, but he swallowed it down. He choked on his own silence, remembered the fingers curling around his wrist and pulling him into a tight grip.

Yukiko looked at him, expectant. When he said nothing, she sighed aloud, features contorting into frustration. Something along the lines of exasperation lined her brow.

He didn’t look up or flinch as his mother slammed the door, disappearing from sight. She probably didn’t have anything to say to him anymore. His gaze fell to the faded bruises on his knuckles. He’d tried to taste food, only to find out that for him, it no longer held any taste.

 This time, it was no different.

* * *

 

He was scared to take out his pencil and charcoal pen to draw. The paper felt nostalgic beneath his touch though, and was comforting if he closed his eyes. It was the only consolation that could be felt.

There were many sketches that filled the pages of his sketchbooks, from back when things were still better. He sketched just about anything he found interesting, and it was all he could afford because paint was simply above his family’s station. There were drawings of birds, trees, flowers, valleys, _people._

Families.

He flipped to an empty page and started to draw random lines. He could conjure the image in his mind, but his hands were clumsy, and he didn’t seem to be in control of them at all. He sighed, the look in his eyes knowing. The previous pages that were most recently drawn on showed things that became uglier, till no figures could be distinguished, and the lines were nothing but random, incomprehensible scribbles that held no meaning. He had once been content in his old sketches. He had seen beauty in everything the world could offer.

And now, the emptiness looked back at him. He drew the pencil back from the page, slamming the book shut. He wanted it to be that easy with his memories.

But it wasn’t.

If anything, the beauty of them haunted him.

He hugged his knees closer.

* * *

 

“Seijuurou?”

Seijuurou smiled at him, and suddenly, Tetsuya found himself in the land of sweets again, with him. A pastel pink sky, towering trees with golden candy canes, sugar flowers on lily pads in rivers of honey. He looked down at his feet, cushioned by the petals of plum trees.

Seijuurou lifted his chin and kissed him without warning, and it tasted like absinthe. It sent Kuroko into a stupor, though he clawed hungrily at Seijuurou’s back as Seijuurou’s tongue played with his. Seijuurou’s fingers traced down his arms, holding his hand. Their eyes met.

He whispered in Tetsuya’s ear, taunting. “Wasn’t it you who decided to leave, Tetsuya?”

Tetsuya’s face betrayed no emotion. “You know why I had to leave.”

“And what did it leave you?”

Before he knew it, tears fell down his cheeks. He surprised even himself.

_Nothing._

Red and gold eyes looked at him, unsettlingly gentle.

And Tetsuya wanted to scream at him. _We can’t have everything that we want. We’re different that way. I dared myself to want, and look where it got me. You know how much I want this too._

Maybe that was exactly why.

“I will continue to exist as long as you believe in me, Tetsuya.” Seijuurou’s head tilted to the side. ”I have faith that you will.”

Seijuurou dragged his arm.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I don’t know, Tetsuya.” He looked at him pointedly. “Where do you want to go?”

It was often the case.

That if he stopped believing, everything would be easier.

Then, it really would all be just a dream.

* * *

 

Home had once been warmer, no matter what the season.

Tetsuya, in those days, would always take a chair and sit by the window. He was always a bit different from the more lively townsfolk. It puzzled people that he did not seem to enjoy the company of others either. The people around Tetsuya were as gentle as they were able, but that didn’t say much. He shuddered from being looked at, so he decided it best to remain at home, where he was at least productive, and did not waste himself away (though most would argue that he did).

Idly, he would look to the direction of the woods, would wonder about what lives people led outside the bounds of Seirin. There were wonderful stories, but what Tetsuya wanted was truth, nothing more and nothing less. He was free to conjure things in his imagination. It was what he did in his spare time, because not much seemed to happen in Seirin. Rich or poor, people were happy or unhappy, but if they had one thing in common, it was that they were all content.

_“Will you not try some bread? It will lift your spirits, I’m sure!” The baker’s wife would say, her cheeks flushed - but she would not dare think her husband as anyone else, because to Seirin, she was always the baker’s wife and he, the baker._

_“A tune on my fiddle may perhaps impress you. Come hither.”The fiddler would say, content that he had no grand stage to brag about, his craft heard only by inexperienced yet enthusiastic ears, when in fact, he might easily fill halls because of his potential._

_“Dear children, do you want to hear a story?” An elder would say, but they were always the same stories. No one talked about the woods at all, unless they were warnings. Children always seemed content with these stories, and it could not be truth that these storytellers had no other stories to tell at all. But perhaps that was what made them the best storytellers in Seirin._

“Why do you always look to the woods, Tetsuya?” His father then asked him one day.

Tetsuya’s curiosity was what doomed him, for he told his father that the woods seemed a lonely place to be in.

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be half as lonely if it were half as gentle. All warnings hold some truth in them.”

And his mother in those days would smile, would hold his hands gently and tell him that they were so blessed to have him. That he was not like all those people who disappeared into the woods. Just recently, a boy not older than he was. “You are not like them, Tetsuya. You know better than to go.”

Quite unfortunate, really.

That he knew better, and that they didn’t.

* * *

 

_“Isn’t he…?”_

_“Shh, he looked at us!”_

He gripped the sheets, but he was so sure he was walking towards a crowd of people. These images flickered in front of him from time to time, familiar sights warped by a sense of reality. Fingers pointed, lips whispered. Objects came into contact with his back, till he found that he was running. He swore there were hands that held his neck, and he breathed in, attempting to free himself. Sooner or later, he was backed against the wall, but it wasn’t the walls of their home. It was stone.

“ _Stay away.”_

He wasn’t sure who was speaking _._ It sounded like something he would tell them. He looked down at his feet, the ice crawling at his skin, slipping into the gaps and freezing him to the core. Slowly, his eyes looked up again, and he found that it was his mother, from those times when he’d just come back. It was strange to see her in the middle of the town. Behind her shadow, it was always home for him.

“Something’s wrong with you.” She choked a sob. “Something’s changed. Ever since… ever since he took you away-“

“He didn’t take me away, mother.” Tetsuya said softly.

“He did!” His mother screeched at him, shoving him forward. _“He did!”_

The next thing he knew, he was behind closed doors.

* * *

 

“Where do you want to go, Tetsuya?”

There were smaller fairies that surrounded them, with their shirts and tulles made of flower petals of pink and blue and green.

_“Do tell, do tell!”_

With a feather-like touch, Seijuurou cupped his cheeks. His touch had always been gentle and fleeting, like a passing breeze that Tetsuya could not quite grasp. If it were not for how Seijuurou was clearly in front of him, he would take him for a ghost. He looked deep into souls – it was said that fairies could do that, and Tetsuya believed the stories this time, because in the first moments they had met, Seijuurou had looked into his.

And he had looked at Seijuurou unsure. Almost, he was met with a look that resembled pity.

“I’m sure you’ll find your answer soon enough.”

Seijuurou had let him go. Inevitably, it was he, too, who came back. The pixies pulled at his hair and circled him until their master told them to retreat, and they did without any sort of protest.  

An outstretched hand greeted him, its flesh carved from clouds. It welcomed him, even if he had turned back once. To touch it would be to taint it with earthly desires, to take a bite of the forbidden fruit - but Seijuurou had been very sweet with his words, and Eden was waiting on the other side.

* * *

 

“Will you ever come back for me, Seijuurou?”

It was intimate, though everyone called him Seijuurou. Seijuurou, for as long as he could remember, had never had anyone say his name that way – full of want, earnest at its core.

He turned around. “Do I have to, Tetsuya, when you so willingly cage yourself in?”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

Tetsuya was regarded as selfless. One look into his eyes and Seijuurou could tell that this was true, but Tetsuya was human, and all humans were selfish. It was why Tetsuya was by his side in the first place, because selflessness could only go so far.

Tetsuya was a free spirit. And he couldn’t be free within the bounds of his own home.

“You aren’t hurting anyone by fighting for what you want.”

Tetsuya seemed to be in conflict, two sides of himself fighting for dominance. The attempt to grapple for conscience was nearly futile. In a ragged voice, Tetsuya’s eyes held a plea. “Give me back my heart.”

Tetsuya’s words were not baseless, not founded on thin air. If anything, Tetsuya was cruel in his own way too, and Seijuurou had led him to find his way. Tetsuya, he seemed to have his answer.

“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

* * *

 

The back of her hand hovered on the surface of the wooden door to her son’s room. She pursed her lips, feeling like she was being watched. It was a feeling that constantly haunted her, even trailed her shadow. Was she doing anything wrong? She had done her son wrong, but it was to protect all of them. She believed that. If she believed in anything else, she would break.

The corridors were empty. So vividly in her mind, she could summon the memories of the townsfolk telling her that her son was a lost cause. He’d bought apples from the fruits stall. The next day, their apples were a rustic brown shade, losing their vibrant red. The members of a house that bought his paintings died on a trip to the neighboring city, all five of them.

Anything that he touched, laid to ruin.      

_It’s because he didn’t listen._

_What a shame, he was such a good boy too._

_You should stay away, Yukiko. I don’t blame you if you’re ashamed._

But her son wasn’t a monster. She didn’t care what they said.

She entered the room. It was in a very orderly state, a great contrast to the chaos of Tetsuya’s disorientation. The room seemed to have been left untouched, even, and it would seem so easy to go back to when things weren’t this _wrong._

_"Seijuurou?"_

That name. That cursed name.

* * *

  

“Tetsuya, listen to me. Please stop this madness.”

Tetsuya laughed. The word made him bob his head. Madness? He could hardly register it. When he made signs of movements, his mother stepped back, like he was a doll suddenly come to life, as if it were so strange a sight to her.

 _Am I that scary, mother?_ The chuckle that came out of his lips was cut halfway. He felt emptiness consume him. _You don’t have to be afraid. It’s just me._

_Your son, Tetsuya._

His mother was backed against a wall now. He had cornered her. She trembled as his shadow loomed above her. With a smile carved from glass, he hushed her.

“I just can’t take it anymore.”

And then she started shouting. “Bring back my son! Bring back-“

He clamped a hand above her mouth. “You don’t want to wake up father.”

She writhed and struggled under his grip, her fingers scratching his face. It made Tetsuya momentarily release his grip on her. Yukiko pounded on his chest, screaming like a lost child. “I can’t leave you with him! You- You monster! You’re not my son!”

She didn’t break out of her distraught state. Nothing could, so Tetsuya ended her suffering. All it took was a pen. If she was a canvas, she filled its page with shades so familiar to his dreams.

Those were the last words she would ever utter, and Tetsuya would remember them forever.

On her dying face, one could see the tears in her eyes, the tears that never came.

* * *

 

He woke up to find that he was alone. Blood stained his hands. His vision blackened, till he blinked the pain back, and everything went into focus. His head throbbed, as if about to be split apart. It was hard to stand, but eventually, he did, regaining his balance.

The night was young, and the moonlight seemed to feed Tetsuya’s soul. He stared into the mirror, greeted by what would seem a soulless corpse soaked in blood. However, what he saw was different. It hadn’t been his imagination, that his lens were now rose-tinted.

For in the stead of blue, there was only red.

* * *

 

Tetsuya’s sin could not hide, even in the trees, and yet he felt freer than ever as he ran, putting the town behind him. He believed that he would be there, waiting for him. He’d promised.

He stopped at an open patch of land surrounded by pine trees. At first, there was only silence, but a faint rustling could be heard, and Seijuurou seemed more than pleased to see him.

Tetsuya fell into Seijuurou’s arms.

“You were right, Seijuurou.” Seijuurou saw red, red, red, and he found himself lost in its depths. Beautiful, was the first word that came to mind. Tetsuya’s head buried into his chest. “I almost didn’t realize… thank you.” The last two words were whispered. Blood no longer coated Tetsuya’s hands, Seijuurou observed, but the smell of death had clung itself to him.

 _No matter_. Seijuurou clasped Tetsuya’s hand firmly, and led him to a gateway concealed by thickets of ivy. Tetsuya smiled, looking to be at peace with himself.

He knew where the door led. They both did.

And Seijuurou had the key.

* * *

 

When he steps forward to get a closer look at the figure in the distance, it has vanished. 

Kuroko Takumi frowns.

A page from the sketchbook in his hands has been torn. He’d been staring at it before the figure came into view.  The cover is a plain brown, with written script that has been washed out. Its pages are untouched though, containing beautiful sprawling landscapes and only the most picturesque portraits of beloved children’s tales. The pictures and colors seem to come alive if one looks hard enough.

He is very fond of it, and looks at it when he misses Yukiko. He wonders what it would have been like if they had had a family.

He had felt a hand atop his head while sick in bed. It all seems like very long ago. It could only have been Yukiko, who had always tended to him at night – and yet something about that memory feels wrong, for after that, his sickness had healed, and his wife had gone all too suddenly, vanishing without a trace, just like that person in the trees.

If anything, the sky blue hair the figure possesses bears a striking resemblance to Yukiko’s. He swears too, that he’d seen another person join the figure, just before it had disappeared.

 _I see. You have left me for a fairy_. He shakes his head. Maybe they are as crazy as they claim him to be, but it doesn’t seem all too unlikely in his head either.

He really has become melancholy. He can’t remember a time when he wasn’t.

Something flies his way, landing on the sketch book. It is a blue rose petal. He holds it in his fingers, inspecting it.

Soon, it is joined by others, a storm of red and blue fueled by strong gusts of wind. The sketchbook’s pages flap upon the very brief yet strong turbulence.

The petals eventually spread throughout the town of Seirin too, raining down on its people in an unexpected fell swoop. They even go beyond and make the papers.

It is many years later that the tree grows tall enough to be seen from miles end, a tree marking the union of two fairies.  

* * *

 

_The fairy embraced him. The boy was startled, but he didn’t flinch away. He could not bear to, too entranced in what laid before him. A crown now rested on his head, similar to the crown that rested on the fairy’s head, made from a sprig of rosemary._

_The fairy was the sugar plum fairy, and their words tasted sweet as they sounded like dew drops in the boy’s ears, and made the world clear again._

_“You are home.”_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> This fic almost never made it to existence. But somehow, it has now. It's kinda like writing something a lot of people will dislike because that murder was a shit move but kindaa akakuro moved on their own  
> Any thoughts are welcome. :)  
> I swear this series has like other planned entries for other pairings but everytime I have free time it just screams akakuro i'm sorry ;;


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